


Not All Monsters Have Claws

by Burnt_Cardboard_Toast (Cardboard_Toast)



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: 10k+ of nothing but shamless porn i hope you're happy, Abuse, Aphrodisiacs, Bestiality, Bondage, Choking, Creampie, Deathclaw, Exhaustion, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Large Cock, Monster - Freeform, Passing Out, Physical Abuse, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Slave, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, This is probably the most kinky thing I have ever written I am so sorry, Zoophilia, i guess??, kinda??, large penetration, slavers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-14 00:20:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5722528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cardboard_Toast/pseuds/Burnt_Cardboard_Toast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On her way to her settlement, Reagan is hit by a massive sandstorm. Luckily, she managed to find some shelter through the blinding winds.</p><p>She wasn't expecting that someone else would as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not All Monsters Have Claws

**Author's Note:**

> A request fill for a friend that got away from me,,, whoops,,

 

“Twenty thousand caps.”

“What? You’re out of your mind this shit is worth at least twice that!”

They stood in a small building in the middle of a large settlement. The walls and floor were wood and as nice as you wold expect from a pawn shop. A woman stood at the counter, fingers tapping the counter as she argued with the man sitting behind it. Over a dozen guns rested beside her all lined up and ready to be sold.

Once they could agree to anything.

“Who knows what kind of quality these may be in?” The man said, scratching his balding head. “Half of this could be rusted to shit as far as I know. I’m sorry Reagan, but I simply can’t take such a risk for anything more than twenty thousand.” He drew on his constantly lit cigar deeply before blowing it out of his nose, filling the room with even more of of the foul smelling smoke.

The merchant was a large man. As large as you can be nowadays at least. He sat at his counter dressed in a pre-war suit in an obvious attempt to show off his wealth. But you and anyone else with eyes could see how dusty and unkempt that suit was. He probably nearly went broke just buying that one.

Reagan hated dealing with this guy. But when it came to guns, she was usually able to get a decent deal out of him.

Usually.

“Look Lyle, when was the last time you’ve even _seen_ load like this? A year? Two? Hell, even if they were rusted, _which they’re not_ you could clean them up and harvest them for working parts. You know how many people are making weapon mods nowadays?” She was getting more and more impatient. She did not spend the last few days exploring and taking out an entire bandit party _herself_ and a few more travelling to this shitty, out of the way settlement just to spend two hours and counting trying not to get fucking cheated.

“Dismantling guns for usable parts takes time Reagan.” He says in a condescending voice. “Time I don’t have nor do I want to _pay_ someone for. If I’m going to foot that cost I sure as hell better be getting a good deal.”

Reagan actually snorted at this. “A good deal?? I could sell scrap for that price.” She leaned on the counter now, looking him in his boring holes in him with her brilliant green eyes. “No, forty thousand caps and a couple days supplies at _least._ ”

It was his turn to laugh, turning to one of his two nameless bodyguards and jabbing a thumb towards her. “You hear this broad? Forty thousand big ones! What a fucking riot!” The guard of course, was just silent. Clearly he wasn’t paid enough to laugh at everything his employer found hilarious. “Alright, Alright I’ll give you twenty five. And I’m doing you a favor with that price.”

Reagan scoffed and shook her head, her black hair shuffling in front of her face. “No fucking way. Thirty five.”

Another snort. “Now why would I give you an extra ten thousand?”

“First, it’s not extra. I’m asking for less than what this it’s _actually_ worth because I’m tired of looking at your face all day.” A loud snort came from the guards who tried to cover it up as some sort of join coughing episode. “Second, these guns came from the _River Raiders._ I doubt the largest gang of bandits this side of the Glowing Sea would have shitty guns.”

As he opened his mouth to argue again Reagan cut across him. “Alright, hows thirty thousand, supplies, and that gun.” She pointed to a polished, chrome gun hanging above him on the wall like a prized fish. It looked like a pretty good one. Heavily customized and if she guessed correctly it looked like it could take explosive rounds. “That’s my final offer. If you don’t take it I’ll take my guns and head the next town over. I don’t care what you say about twenty being a good deal I’ll take my fucking chances.”

He grumbled darkly, leaning forward in his chair and thinking it over for a long time. After what must’ve been ten minutes straight of silence she sighed, moving to grab all her guns. “Well, it was a waste of time talking with you bu-“

“W-wait!” He shouts, looking panicked. He glared and growled out “Fine. Take your fucking money.” He barks at one of his guards to go in the back to get the caps.

 _“And_ the supplies.” She says, glaring at him. He wasn’t going to weasel out of this one. “Plus that gun.”

“Yes, yes I know. But not that gun. That one doesn’t even work. It’s a prop more than anything.”

Just as she was opening her mouth to call bullshit and demand to see it for herself he reached under the counter, pulling out another gun and letting it clatter on the counter.

Reagan flinched, reaching briefly for her rifle on instinct and causing the bodyguard at his shoulder to stiffen as well, his grip on his shotgun tightening. Lyle noticed the reaction and chuckled. “Relax, I was just going to offer this one instead.” It looked the same base model as the one hanging above them. Except not nearly as polished and this one had a few different mods as well. Including some she didn’t recognize.

“It’s a fine gun.” He says, petting the side of it as if it was a companion for many years. “Trust me I’ve used it more times than I can count. It pains me to part with such a dear friend but I assume you wont take anything but the best will you?” He gave her such a fake smile and she it made her grimace. She picked up the gun and began to inspect it closely.

After looking it over, analyzing every part of it, she found she still couldn’t figure out what this one black box stuck on the barrel actually did. “What’s this for?”

“Ah, that’s a advanced stabilizer. Got it in New Vegas and never seen anything like it since. It improves your accuracy so much you’ll never be able to use anything else.” As he finished talking, the other bodyguard came back out, carrying a bag of caps and a back pack full of supplies. She didn’t like how accommodating he suddenly was and knew there was something up. But all the parts she could see were good enough. If it was a dud she could fix it up. “Alright, I’ll take it.”

He pulled out a red pen and began writing on a piece of paper. “Alright… Thirty five thousand caps… A gun… And three days worth of supplies.” The ink was so dark red and shiny she thought it looked uncomfortably like blood. If she had to guess he mixed it just for that look. “Is there anything else?” he asks, smile looking more like the baring of teeth more than anything.

She packed up her supplies and caps, throwing the new gun over her shoulder and began to leave. “No thanks.” She’s been there longer than she ever wanted to.

“It was a _pleasure_ doing business with you.” He said as she left. She just gave him a quick nod before leaving the store. She won’t be coming back here anytime soon. Closest gun buyer be dammed.

She pulled her visor down to block out the sun’s rays and began the long walk back towards her settlement _The Shelter._ Despite everything at the end of the day this was a good haul. They’ll have enough food supplies for the next few months.

She had some good stories to tell as well. It’ll be good to be home again.

As the sun set over the wasteland a fierce windstorm picked up. It kicked up enough dust and sand that she slowed to a crawl, cursing under her breath and trying to find somewhere to stay until it blew over.

Just as she was wondering if it would be worth it to try and walk back to the previous settlement, she saw something shadowy up ahead. It was hard to make it out through the dust, but it looked like it was a couple men. Possibly some travelling mercenaries.

Possibly.

Rather than risk her luck, Reagan hid behind a large rock nearby. She pressed her back up against it as flat as she could and strained to hear passing conversation over the howling wind.

“-yer, we gotta find some shelter. This wind ain’t dyin’ any time soon.” His voice was so quiet the words were almost lost to the winds.

“Get over it! She should be somewhere around here…” Another man’s voice, his voice sounded as though he swallowed a cup of broken glass. “You know how much those fucking slave collars cost? We’re gonna find her, shoot her, and take both her _collar_ and find out what the hell she did to it.”

Reagan felt her blood run cold. They were _slavers._ She thought there weren’t any operating in this area! She bites her lip and thinks about The Shelter and what these men would do if they managed to get past the walls. She shivered. She’s going to have to make sure to keep more patrols posted once she gets back.

Her attention is snapped back to reality when she heard the quiet man finally respond. “She’d be crazy to be out in this storm. No supplies. No weapons. Hell even we can’t see worth two shits out here. Our guns are probably so gunked up we can’t even shoot her if we find her.”

“Just keep looking!” The gravelly voiced man shouted back. “And remember, don’t kill her if you can’t help it. But no matter what you do _don’t shoot that collar._ It’s worth more than you three times over in this part of the wasteland.”

She bit her lip harder and squeezed her fists so tight her nails dug into her palms. She wanted to kill them. Jump out right then and shoot them full of bullets. Even if they’re just some low-level grunts she didn’t want those bastards living a second longer. But she can’t. She could hardly see in this windstorm and who knows what they’re packing. It was way too risky.

She let out a frustrated sigh as their voices began to fade out, being completely swallowed by the storm. After she felt like she’s been hiding long enough, she finally stopped away. And almost immediately she was knocked over by the powerful winds.

This was impossible. She needs to find shelter _now._

So Reagan began walking. Usually there’s small shacks or even houses out in this part of the wasteland. She can find one somewhere she eventually knows it.

Her mind began to drift as she walked, her wandering thoughts eventually settling her settlement. It all began when she had a merc job to go and take out a slavers den a few ago. After wiping them out and exploring the whole place for something to keep, she stumbled upon a cell with several dozen women locked inside.

She couldn’t leave them there so she picked the lock and somehow she managed to figure out how to remove their collars without any accidents. She even escorted them to the nearest settlement where a few of them were from. She was surprised when over half of them wanted to keep travelling with her. At first she refused, wanting to stay on her own like she has been this whole time. But after spending more time with them and loving their company she finally agreed. They began travelling from town to town, settlement to settlement until they ended up starting their own.

She was so deep in her own thoughts that she nearly ran right into the side of a house. She slowed, breathing hard through the fabric that protected her face from the sand as she stepped back to look it over. It was a small house. Nothing impressive but it was just what she needed. She ran around until she found the front door and began pounding on it. “Hello!?” She called “Is there anyone there!?”

Silence. Good. She tried opening the door and, thankfully, she didn’t need to pick the lock. She practically jumped inside and slammed the door behind her, closing her eyes and leaning against the door. Already she was feeling so much better. She pulled off her visor and shook the sand out of her short black hair as she sighed out deeply.

After resting for a few moments she opened her eyes again. A ancient couch and tv sat nearby in what must’ve been the living room. The tv was nothing but an empty plastic shell at this point, and the couch looked as though it was about to fall apart at any moment. The evidence of several campfires and many, many people camping out here littered the floor. Everything from empty water bottles, canteens, animal bones, and in the corner to Reagan’s disgust, the skeleton of some unrecognizable animal. Bright white and probably picked clean by radroaches.

She was presently surprised that somewhere over the years someone had boarded up the windows. This area must get windstorms more often than she thought.

“Well, might as well get holed up for the night.” Reagan says to herself as she let her backpack fall to the floor. She pulled out a flashlight and and kept her gun slung over her back and began to explore. Deciding to check the bedrooms first.

By the time Reagan was finished looking around, she discovered two bedrooms, one bed, a bathroom (not working of course) and the remains of a kitchen. Overall it was a small shelter but that just meant it was easier to secure.

The only downside was that the front door’s lock was broken. To temporarily remedy this, she just dragged the couch over and propped it up against the door to help slow down whoever might try and look for a place to stay as well. It’s not as if she would be sleeping with both eyes closed tonight.

And she wasn’t going to take a chance with those men out there somewhere.

She set up a few battery powered tripod lights so she could actually see and went back in the master bedroom. She sat down on the floor, aid out a bit of cloth and began cleaning her rifle, taking it apart and almost ritualistically organizig each piece before cleaning every nook and cranny before placing it in it’s place.

It was relaxing. It helped her unwind and settle her constantly buzzing mind while she was out in the wasteland. She was just considering closing her eyes to rest a for a few minutes once she finished whens he heard a sound outside.

She stiffened and heard the muffled sounds of someone talking outside talking outside. Her whole body felt like a tightly coiled spring as she strained to listen.

To her horror heard them walking around towards the front door.

 _“Shit!”_ She still had her trusty rifle in pieces and cursed again, running to the bed and grabbed the one she just bought. She wanted to test and fully inspect it but there was no time. Maybe the explosive rounds will discourage them a little more anyway. She crept back out into the hallway and pressed her back against the wall, waiting for them to open the door.

“-nd your fucking trigger fingers we lost her!” came the muffled voice. “She was right there and you didn’t even hit her! Where the fuck did she get that gun anyway!?” The door budged slightly before hitting the couch. There was some cursing before she heard the sounds of the couch scraping along the ground. “Maybe she stole it when sh-” The quiet man’s voice started and was hushed violently by the gravelly man. They noticed the lights.

She braced herself, taking in a deep breath. She listens to the sounds of their slow footsteps on the creaky wood floor. Right as she hears them both walk in and close the door behind them, she leaps out from her cover. She raises her gun and takes aim right at who she assumes is the leader. The man with cropped hair, an old dusty suit jacket on and a jagged scar across his throat. She wastes no time and pulls the trigger, knowing the shot would blow his head off instantly if the bullets were still good.

Instead, the small, unassuming black box on top of the gun opened.

A small toy on a spring popped up and bounced, a tinny, approximation of a laugh played through the toy’s internal speakers. A small note was stapled to it’s front.

It was a jack-in-the-box.

Reagan blinked. She was lost for words. Out of everything she expecting, every jam up for backfire she’s ever experience, this was beyond anything.

Before she could react, before she could even read the note, she had the air knocked out of her _hard._ The scarred man tackled her and threw her sprawling to the ground, knocking the wind out of her. She coughs and attempts to get control of the situation by kicking, punching, _anything_ to get the man pinning her to the ground of her _off._ But it was no use. She was having trouble just getting air back into her lungs. All she manages to do is give the man a nasty bruise and knee him hard in the stomach before the quiet man finally came over to help restrain her.

She screams. She might’ve been able to eventually fight off the scarred man until things were even but this was too much. She was flipped over on her stomach roughly, her cheek hitting the hard dirty floor as her arms are yanked back behind her. She felt the sharp pain of the cold handcuffs biting into her wrist and she knew this was it. There was no escaping this easily.

Then she noticed her gun laying a few feet away from where she lay. The note was short, reading “You cheat me, I cheat you back. -Lyle.”

She was furious, shouting out not only because of the men holding her down, but at the deceiving, cowardly, filth of a man that Lyle was.

She wasn’t about to go down without a fight. She was going to get out of this to make him pay for this. “You motherfuckers!” She screamed. “You fucking shits let me go!”

She felt her legs being zip-tied together as well before she’s rolled on her back again, looking right into the man’s face.

He smiled a crooked self satisfied smile, looking over at the other man.”It looks like we won’t be going back empty handed after all. We got ourselves some fresh meat!” he let out a gravelly laugh and the other man laughed softly as well. His words sent chills down Reagan’s spine.

“You think we’ll be able to break her in Sawyer? She seems pretty uppity to me.” The quiet man asked the other, running a finger through her dark hair. She waited and snapped at him, hoping to bite his finger _off._ Unfortunately he had good reflexes and pulled back just in time.

The scarred man, or rather Sawyer, continued to laugh at that even when Reagan screamed and spat, cursing more at the two of them.

“Go to hell you fucking prick!” She screamed, spitting a large wad right at his face.

That got him to stop laughing. He reached up to slowly wipe the spit from his face and looked at it as if he was examining some alien creature. Then he pulled back an arm and punched her. Hard. Her head banged against the floor and she let out a cry of pain. and Everything began to lurch and spin obscenely and a wave of nausea washed over her before she began to black out.

She tried to fight it off but that seemed to only make it worse. With her last thoughts she realized just how much trouble she was in. And to her horror, she realized her settlement may never get the caps they so dearly need.

With the last bit of strength, before she felt herself fully slip away she whispers two words out, as hateful as she could manage.

“Fuck. You.”

And finally, everything went dark, their resulting laughs drifting off to somewhere far away.

When she woke up everything was so overwhelming she couldn’t process it all.

She was disoriented at first, the world was spinning and her head pounded with a horrible headache. One of her eyes couldn’t open fully and she didn’t have to touch it to know it was badly swollen. But when she tried to touch it anyway she found her arms were stuck somewhere above her head.

At this point she finally noticed a strange pressure between her legs and she was moving, it felt as if she was in a bumpy vehicle or riding a Brahmin. Or…

She struggled to shake herself out of this confused dream-like state, her eyes focusing past the headache and she fully woke up.

She realized several things at once.

First, she was in a bed. Her hands were handcuffed above her head to the metal headboard and no amount of struggling was about to free her.

She was also completely naked. Someone had stripped her completely while she was knocked out. Before she could scream or panic over this revelation she noticed something even worse.

She was being raped.

It was the quiet man. Unlike his soft voice he was fucking her hard and fast. Clearly he has been going at it for a while now. The deep, burning ache coming from her crotch made it obvious he wasn’t the first that day either. The wet, sticky puddle of cum that had pooled under her ass drove that point home.

They’ve been fucking her in her _sleep._

At this realization she finally found her voice and _screamed._ She writhed on the bed under her assaulter, trying to kick him off before realizing that they were already spread apart, each leg attached to a bedpost by a coarse length of rope.

The man fucking her jumped when she first began screaming. Then a grin spread across his face and he grabbed a painful bunch of hair and pulled her head back down on the bed. “Hey Sawyer, the slut actually did wake up.” He says, looking over his shoulder. “You’re lucky. I’ve never seen someone out that long.”

Sawyer sat a little ways away, smoking a cigarette as he read an old, small, leather book. It was as if they had been doing the most normal thing in the world.

She almost didn’t notice that he was naked from the waist down.

He looked up and shot him a glare. “Yes I have ears you know.” Despite his tone she saw him smile and return to his book. “I’ll have another go once you’re through.”

She began to shout louder, suddenly every horrible feeling she felt stopped as her rage boiled. “I’m going to fucking kill you! I’ll fucking rip your balls off and stuff them down your shitty throat! I’m gonna-“

She continues as closed his book and got up, leaving the room. He returned a few minutes later with a roll of duct tape. She shouted and spat at him, trying to protect the one of the few ways she could defy them as long as she could. He ignored her, grabbing and pulling her hair hard to cut her off and slapped the tape over her mouth.

She continued to scream muffled threats through the tape as the man between her legs continued to fuck her, each thrust feeling worse than before.

It wasn’t long before she heard him moan out and his thrusts slow. She realized what was happening and struggled even harder, her legs pulling at the ropes so hard the wood began to creak. It was too late. She could feel how hot and sticky it was, how _much_ of it there was and the way it made her feel.

It was disgusting. She felt like she was going to be sick.

He pulled himself out after what felt like an eternity, leaving her to feel empty as the cum dribbled out of her. Sawyer closed his book and left it on his chair, clapping the other man on the shoulder as he replaced him on the bed. She tried in vain to move as far away as she could from him as he pressed his cock against her, grinding it slowly against her as he spoke. “Now listen, this s the only fucking time I’m going to explain this to you.” He begins, he spread her out with one hand and made sure to rub right up against her sensitive clit, causing her to gasp and slam the back of her head against the bed. She was too fucking sensitive there. It didn’t even feel good it just _hurt._

“We’re slavers, and you’re our catch. I don’t think I need to explain much more than that do I?” Another rough grind. One that sent a shiver up her spine and made her see _stars._

“We’re going to spend a _lot_ of time together until the storm ends and we head back to our headquarters. If you act right and accept it then I’m sure you’ll enjoy like the slut you are.”

He began tracing your opening with the tip of his cock, dragging out the inevitable out longer, forcing Reagan to anticipate it more and more, dreading it with each passing second.

“If not, we can do it the hard way. We’ll just have to break you in. And we _will._ I’ve done it so many times some slavers call me in to break in their most rowdy catches.” Then he pressed himself deep into her, making her scream out a muffled scream before it was ruthlessly cut off, his calloused large hand squeezing her throat like a vice.

“Shut. Your. Goddamn. Mouth.” He hisses as he began thrusting himself in and out of her. She began to panic, trying to get any amount of air into her lungs. “Don’t you see? The literal only reason you’re still alive is because you’re worth something as a wet hole to be fucked. Something for me to use until I sell you to the highest bidder. The sooner you realize this the better because there’s _nothing_ you can do. Understand?”

He finally let her go just before she began passing out again, she coughed hard and tried to get air into her aching lungs with deep gasps through her nostrils.

He watched her cough and breathe for several seconds as he fucked her before he pulled back a fist and backhanded her.

She let out a shriek of pain as he screams “Fucking answer me when I talk to you bitch! Do. You. Understand?”

This was what sent her over the edge. She hated, fought against, even was disgusted by everything that was happening. But his words driving home how hopeless everything was and the pain that wracked her body made her finally break down into a mess of sobs. As he was pulling back his arm to hit her again she nodded hard. Showing him that yes she did in fact understand him.

“Good.” He hisses out, beginning to slam into her harder as if to drive the point home. “Now fucking take it like the whore you are.”

There was nothing else she could do.

She laid there and took it. Over and over.

The next few days was a complete blur for Reagan. She was fucked for hours between the two men before they both passed out around what must’ve been midnight, giving her a few precious hours before one of them woke up for a late night fuck.

At first she tried to keep resisting, making it as hard as possible for them. But after getting beaten each time, feeling humiliated as she broke down in tears in front of them when the pain and the hopelessness got too much, she began to just let it happen. Laying there as quiet and still as possible. She hoped this would help discourage them eventually.

It didn’t.

Occasionally one of them will rip off her gag and pour water on her face so she doesn’t die of thirst. As much as she hated it, she drank down as much as she could. These water breaks were few and far between and she needed as much as she could to keep going.

One day, they decide to untie her from the bed and remove her gag for some new positions. As soon as her hands were free she had attempted in scratching the eyes out of the nearest man. Sadly, she missed, only cutting his cheek.

She was covered in more bruises after that.

She had her hands handcuffed behind her back tightly and thrown over the bed, fucked doggy style for hours at a time, switching out almost immediately. The new position made it harder to ignore as their cocks ground into her even harder and she found herself crying more often.

But the worst was when they began to force her to ride them on the bed. She had to ride them reverse cowgirl style and she could never slow down unless she was commanded otherwise. Not only was this more humiliating as they jeered at her, telling her what a slut she must be for knowing how to roll her hips so well and how much she must be _loving_ , but something even worse began to happen.

It started to feel good.

The first time it happened it was such a foreign, out of nowhere feeling that she she didn’t recognize it at first. She had been riding Sawyer and enduring his words like she had been. “Look at you, riding us like a cheap whore. I bet you do this all the time don’t you? Needing to make a few extra caps to make ends meet huh? Is that the kind of shit you keep telling yourself?”

She ignored him, just bouncing her hips up and down as fast as she could. It was getting late and she hoped beyond hope that they’d leave her alone for the night once he finally came.

Then she heard herself start to moan.

She quickly covered it up with a cough and finally realizing with a rush what the feeling was.

A wave of horror crashed over her. _There’s no way this was about to happen no no no fuck no not now there’s no way._

She slowed her riding to a stop, hoping it’ll go away before Sawyer shouted. “Hey! I didn’t tell you to fucking stop!” He grabbed her by the back of her hair and pulled, making her gasp and almost let a moan slip out. She clenched her teeth and kept going slow, even when he bruising up her back. She secretly hoped they would help make that impending feeling go away.

After he hit her a few more times and she refused to move, Sawyer changed position. He threw her face down onto the bed and began fucking her on her knees as fast as he could. He kept a firm grip on her hair and hips to make sure she couldn’t try and get away.

The feeling didn’t go away. It kept building, picking up speed. She bit her tongue and tried to think about how horrible this whole situation was, what they’re doing with her, anything. She tried to scramble away from him in vain as she felt the pleasure building up fast.

She came hard.

She felt her cunt clench around Sawyer as she let out a strangled cry of pleasure, her toes curling from the intensity of it. Sawyer had been close himself and with her orgasm he came shortly after.

“Did you hear that?” He asks the quiet man. “The bitch actually came! It looks like she really is just a whore who loves cock…” He pulls out of her lets go of her hair, the cum trailing down her legs and only adding to the feeling of disgust she felt now that the orgasm ebbed away.

She pressed her face against the bed and began to sob. They took the last thing she had, the last act of defiance to what they’ve been doing. She didn’t even know how important it was to her until she lost it.

She continued to cry until she felt the all too familiar feeling of another man sliding himself into her. At this she summoned every ounce of energy left in her weak, to try and fight back once again. She threw her head back, hitting the quiet man behind her in the face. She heard his nose break with a satisfying crunch.

As the man cried out in pain she got to her feet and ran as hard as she could towards the bedroom door. She didn’t care about the open wasteland and ongoing windstorm outside, she had to escape. She had to do _something._

Then she felt someone grab her hair. She was pulled back with a hard yank and sprawled across the floor, crying out in pain. “Would you look at that? She still has some fight in her! Quit whining Markus it’s your own damn fault! You couldn’t handle one fucking woman?”

Of course it was Sawyer. He pulled her to her feet and began dragging her back to the bed. She wanted to fight back again, she wanted to scream kick and do anything. But she found she was exhausted. She hasn’t eaten in days, barely had water and was fucked constantly. Just that small escape attempt tired her out more than a flat out marathon would have in regular normal circumstances.

“It looks like we’ll have to tie you back down break you in a bit more now won’t we? Maybe in a few days you’ll fucking behave.”

She began to sob once again. As bad as it was being forced to ride them, she had at least some control. She could do _something._ But being tied up meant she couldn’t do anything but take it.

For the first time, with her pride at it’s lowest and becoming desperate, she began to beg.

“P-p-please. Please let me go.” Her voice surprised even herself with how small and fragile it was. “Pleas! I-I won’t tell anyone! You can keep my guns and supplies just please!”

The scorn of his snort was nearly heart-breaking. “Now that’s fucking pitiful. A slave crying to her slaver to be let go. What makes you so special, so unique that I would let _you_ go over every other catch I caught?” She had no answer. Just more tears ran down her face as he laughed as he shoved her back onto the bed. She didn’t even struggle as her hands were cuffed to the metal headboard and she was forced to spread her legs over the cum covered mattress.

She was kept up longer than any other night before, as if he was really driving what he said home. And as much as she wanted it to be just a one time thing, never to happen again, she couldn’t control it.

She came over and over again. Each orgasm was more intense and painful than before. It was as if a switch had been switched on and suddenly every movement of their cocks sent pleasure shooting through her like electricity.

Finally, after screaming and arching her back wildly as she was wracked with the seventh or eight orgasm that night, she felt herself beginning to pass out from exhaustion. When she felt the darkness creep around her vision, she didn’t even try to fight it off. She let it take her. She needed every possible escape that she could get.

She was just thankful her nights were dreamless. Just darkness drowning everything out.

For once, Reagan wasn’t woken up to someone wanting to fuck her.

When she opened her eyes from the restless sleep she was greeted by the sight of an empty room. For a moment she dared to hope that the men had simply left. Having their full and simply leaving her for dead.

Then she she heard them talking out in the living room, too muffled to make anything out besides the sounds of movement and zippers.

Finally, she heard the sounds of stomping boots across the wood floor and the bedroom door swung open. It was Sawyer, zipping up the coat of his wastelander outfit as he walked over. Reagan shrank away as he bent over her, removing her hands from the headboard. “We’re moving. The storm is over so we’re heading back to headquarters.”

She paled, trying to pull away from him once he freed her hands from the headboard she was too weak. He rolled her over and pulled her arms roughly behind her back, tying the rope that had been keep her legs tied to the bed to her handcuffs. “…Just leave me.” She finally whispers.

He just laughed, untying her legs and forcing her to her feet. He begins shoving her across the room and out into the hall. “I can’t believe you think you still have a say in any of this! Do you know how much someone would pay for someone like you? No scars, no marks, hell you’re worth at least double the one we lost!

Reagan heart sinks even lower as she’s pulled out into the living room. Wrappers from the food packages she had bought from Lyle joined the already messy floor and crunched under her bare feet. Her lights had been put away and even her working disassembled gun had been put together and was slung over the quiet man’s shoulder.

She didn’t have much time to look around before she being shoved towards the open front door. Her eyes go wide and she shakes her head, trying to push back against him. “P-Please not like this. Cover me up with something at least please!”

Sawyer laughed harder and gave her one last hard push, making her stumble out into the blazing sunlight. It was so bright she had to squint against it all. She could feel the rays on her skin, the wind blowing across her and covering her in goosebumps.

She never felt more exposed before in her life.

She stumbled forward once again as Sawyer walked ahead of her, holding the rope tied to her hands in his and gave her a sudden tug. She was too weak and lightheaded that she fell on her knees with a grunt. They all laughed at her as if she was nothing but a joke as she slowly got back up.

The quiet man finished packing a Brahmin he no doubt stole this morning and began leading it. Sawyer with Reagan in tow, dragging her along with slowly.

Sawyer looked back with a smug smile, saying “Don’t worry, in a few weeks of breaking you in you’ll be _begging_ to get fucked.” He let out another raspy laugh and in that moment, all the forced submission that had built up in her broke. In a single, furious rush she wanted nothing more than to to jump at him and rip his scarred throat out with her teeth.

She stopped walking.

After tugging her hard and only getting her to fall to her knees, he turned to face her. “The fuck are you doing?” He tugs her again. She refused. “Get the fuck up!”

She glared, summoning all her energy to scream as loud as she can “You’ll have to fucking come here and DRAG me!”

The anger on his face was clear but she didn’t care. He gripped his rope tight and began to storm over. She knew it was going to hurt. She knew it but she didn’t care. She was going to waste as much time as she could and fight as frantically as she could.

Then, strangely, he froze in place. He was mid-stride and it took her a moment to realize he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at something far off in the distance past her. Reagan turned to follow his gaze, wondering what could possibly have stopped him.

When she saw it she felt her blood run cold.

It was a hulking creature, black with red lines spreading out in random directions almost like a messy spider web. hunched backed with dozens of spikes that ridged it. Two gigantic horns spiraled out from it’s forehead, the brow was huge and lighter than the rest of it’s body and even from this distance she could see the teeth that jutted out from its lips at odd angles.

Despite herself, her first thought was of a demon. Then her senses snapped back and she recognized it for what it was. She’s always been lucky enough to avoid it up until now.

An Alpha Deathclaw.

And it was charging right for them.

He began tugging at Reagan’s rope, shouting at her to get up. She stumbled, trying to run but her exhaustion was overwhelming her. The quiet man was already running away as fast as he could, the Brahmin trying to keep up.

Sawyer kept pulling on the rope, causing Reagan to fall more than once and causing more harm than good. He looked back at the approaching deathclaw and gave her one final look. He looked as though he was about to drop a sack of caps off into an irradiated river. His face grimaced and he dropped the rope before tuning and running as fast as he could, chasing after the quiet man

This was it. This was her escape. She just had to run another way and pray the Deathclaw would ignore her. Despite her exhaustion, despite feeling weaker than she’s felt in her life, adrenaline pumped through her veins and she got back on her feet. She looked back. It was almost here now. She could already hear his panting and beastly grunts as it chased down his pray.

She ran. She tore through the empty plains as hard as she could. Picking a random direction and hoping it would ignore her.

It was barely a minute before she felt her legs give way under her.

She fell to the ground hard, unable to catch herself as she slid across the ground. She tried to get up, she struggling to get to her knees but there was no use. Her body simply couldn’t handle it any more.

There was a air-rending roar as the Deathclaw charged past, running after the two men. Reagan watched as Sawyer pulled out his rifle, trying to shoot desperately as he ran. When he realized the bullets were doing nothing, he turned and shot the Brahmin, clearly hoping the deathclaw would go after that instead.

The deathclaw ignored it, kicking it aside as it reached out a single, clawed hand towards him.

Reagan almost looked away out of reflex. But she refused. She wanted to see him die with her own two eyes.

With a brutal slash of a claw and scream, Sawyer fell to the ground. Not moving.

The quiet man was next, he emptied round after round into the hulking monster before throwing the gun at him, trying to scramble away before being slashed as well, the sound of splattering blood filled the air before he fell, landing in an expanding pool of it.

They were finally both dead.

She couldn’t but to cry a sob of relief. The only thing she wanted was to have done it herself but she’ll take what she could get. She watched as the deathclaw bent to sniff the quiet man and for a horrified moment thought it was about to eat the both of them. But he seemed to not be hungry and stood.

He turned around, looking to see if anyone else is around and Reagan held her breath. Maybe if she lays still it’ll think she was already dead.

At first it seemed to work. Seeing nothing else living in the area it began to walk off from where it came. Just as it almost was past her suddenly it froze and began sniffing the air.

It turned to face her.

 _‘Shit shit shit fuck shiT’_ Every fiber of her being _screamed_ at her to run and never look back. Run as hard and long as she can run until he was a speck on the horizon and _keep running._

But she swallowed the instinct down, even as he slowly lumbered towards her. She couldn’t run even if she wanted to. Hell, even if she was in top form she couldn’t survive by just running. She would have to drop mines or use exploding rounds or _something._ And she had nothing, not even clothes on her back.

Once he got close Reagan squeezed her eyes closed, her heart pounding in her ears. She could hear the heavy, powerful footsteps as he got closer. Hear his breath puffing out of his scaly nostrils. Her body tensed as he began sniffing her, his face so close she could feel the hot air puff over her. He nudged her with his snout and she almost screamed. She bit her tighter lip and tried not to make a sound. With a nudge of his snout she was flipped over on her back.

She couldn’t help but to let out a squeak when he began sniffing between her legs.

Her mind spun as she felt the monstrous creature continue sniffing, seemingly entranced by the smell of old sex. She began thinking frantically, trying to process what was going on. _‘He’s not actually going to do anything… Right? There’s no way he would. We aren’t anywhere near the same species! There’s no way!’_

Then she remembered a rumor that went around her settlement a few years back. Someone talked about how back when they were a slaver, there was a woman brought in who had apparently escaped getting torn to shreds by a deathclaw by _fucking_ it. Ever since then she was nicknamed Matriarch after the matriarch deathclaw. No one believed them but they swore it was true. She had only stayed there for a few days before being bought up by some incredibly wealthy buyer. There were more rumors that came later that the man who bought her had a _pet_ deathclaw and he bought her just watch her fuck it.

Before the thought could fully sink in, she felt something long, wet and slimy slide across her cunt. She let out a cry of surprise and thought for a horrifying moment that he was about to _eat_ her. But when she cracked open an eye to steal a look, she realized he was licking her. He was _licking the dried cum off of her._

She instinctively tried to squirm away but she was stopped by a large scaly hand. He held her around the waist, his claws thankfully were dull but she knew if he slashed hard enough, it could cut through metal.

She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face, trying to just get through it. Maybe after he’s done he’ll finally leave her alone.

His tongue felt bizarre against her. It wasn’t thick and flat like human’s or anything like that. It was long and thin like an anteater’s only had the movement and the size of a snake. It slid across her constantly as it writhed and tried to get as much as it could off of her. And with another gasp of surprise on her part, she felt it grind against her clit.

She swore to herself and bit her lip. It felt good. It felt _way good._ The slimy otherworldly feeling of it made her skin crawl but every movement sent a small shot of pleasure running through her. And when it slid inside her she let out a _moan._

Her face was hot, her body was covered in goosebumps. Suddenly she was very aware that she was outside in the open moaning through her clasped fingers as a deathclaw licked her out. She hoped beyond hope that no one could see her right now.

Finally, with a small sigh of relief, the tongue slit out of her. She felt wet and slimy but she also _tingled_ with pleasure. He had to be done now, she couldn’t feel anything else on her he has to be-

Then she saw something began to poke out between two large scales on it’s underbelly. It slid out completely and fell across her stomach. It was huge and wet.

She completely cast away any remaining plans of playing dead as her eyes go wide in shock. _“No..”_ She mumbles. “No no no no _no no no please.”_

It was the deathclaw’s huge, pink and fleshy cock.

It was shaped unlike any she’s ever seen, the head was small compared to the girth of the shaft. She wasn’t even sure it _had_ a head it looked as if it tapered off to a point. It had dozens of bumps spread across it, almost like small flesh versions of the ridges across the top and underside. Overall, it was as at least as large as half her leg.

He was ready to mate with her.

She screamed. Louder than when she first woke up to being raped in her sleep, immediately struggling uselessly under his huge grasp, he growled and roared, gnashing his teeth but she didn’t care. She could feel him trying to get inside her already. After a sudden loud snarl she stopped screaming, trying to calm herself down and think about this. There was no way there as no way it was going to fit. He would try and give up and leave her alo-

The very tip of it finally found her entrance. She let out a choked sob as she felt the bizarre cock slide into her. It _hurt._ It was so huge she just couldn’t handle it as he began to work his way into her. She could feel herself stretching under the stress of taking it all. There was a point where she felt as if she couldn’t stretch any more, that he had to stop. She rose up on her elbows and began screaming at him as if he would understand. “Stop! Stop I can’t take anymore! Please I-“

With a single, brutal, painful thrust he slammed himself fully inside her.

She came harder than she ever had in her life.

She never felt anything like it. It was as if he hit a switch that gave her a mind rending orgasm. She rolled her eyes back and arched her back, she felt her stomach bulging and somehow it didn’t hurt. It only felt amazing. For several seconds she didn’t make a sound. She couldn’t even breath. Her fingers curled into fists and her legs kicked out uselessly. Then her lips, reddened from her biting parted and she finally screamed. In fear or pleasure she no longer knew.

She writhed and kept screaming out as he began thrusting in and out of her. Each roll of his hips sends those bumps of his grinding deliciously inside her. Somewhere in the back of her mind she couldn’t believe this was actually happening. But she couldn’t focus about on it now. She couldn’t really think of anything.

Soon enough her orgasm began to fade away. Her mind clears a little but the pleasure attacking her never stops. She lets out a wild moan with every thrust he gave her, making it hard to concentrate.

Once it does clear enough, she starts trying to figure out just. _How_ this was possible. How she wasn’t in more pain than she was already. It hurt, but nowhere near how badly it should. Maybe his spit was laced with something??? Maybe he wasn’t as big as she thought? Maybe-

Before she could continue this thought she felt another orgasm begin rushing towards her again. Her heart pounded and she felt a bizarre mix of glee and panic as she tried to fight it off. _No. No no no this wasn’t going to happen again! I can’t cum she cant!!_ She struggled under his grip again, pounding her fists uselessly on his armored claws to try and get him to stop, to get him to slow down, to do _something._

But he didn’t slow down. He just panted and kept thrusting into her until her back arched violently once again, another scream was torn from from her as she came, her cunt squeezing down hard on the deathclaw’s cock.

As she writhed under him, drowning in the pleasure she suddenly felt him slow down almost to a standstill. He pressed himself as deep as he could inside her, and to her complete surprise, she felt something beginning to stretch her even more.

He was beginning to knot.

A bulge began to form in the lower part of his cock, right on the other side of her outer lips. She knew what was coming next, and despite the pleasure overwhelming her a feeling of horror came over her.

She fought to come down from her orgasm high faster than before, still moaning as she tries to make him slip out of her before it happened. But with a growl he slams her back down with a shove of a clawed hand. He let out a roar, his hips bucking as he came inside her.

It was _hot._ It almost felt as if someone was pouring candle wax inside of her. She couldn’t believe how much of it shot inside her. It finally she came down enough and it was at this she finally began to cry. She couldn’t help it, after everything that happened over the last few days, all the things she went through, things kept getting worse and worse.

Eventually she felt herself giving up. Soon enough the knot went down and he started going at it again. Any pain that she felt was just a dull faraway ache now as she endured the ongoing rape.

She gave up resisting the orgasms after her fourth failed attempt. Why bother? They were going to happen no matter what she wanted and they gave her a moment where she could stop thinking entirely. A few moments of nothing but intense pleasure to escape the reality she was stuck in.

After the fourth (maybe sixth?) time he came and he showed no signs of stopping yet again, she lost all hope. There was no escaping this. Her settlers would have to go on without her. Tears ran down her face but she didn’t so much as sob., She just kept thinking about how terrible her situation was. She would be dead, naked, beaten, and used by a monster in the middle of the wasteland. And that was if she was lucky. She could end u-

Suddenly she noticed a red dot move across her body.

It glided down past her breasts, across her naval and eventually climbed up to the deathclaw’s face. He didn’t notice it at first, too busy gearing up to cum yet again. But when he noticed he suddenly stopped. It danced there for a few moments, right on the edge of his nose and drawing both of their gazes before it slide over to his small dark eye.

A gunshot rang out.

The deathclaw’s eye exploded.

It roared in pain and stumbled back, with a sloppy wet sound, he slid out of Reagan all at once, giving her another small orgasm as she’s left there with the cum pouring out of her. Through the haze pleasure she watched him claw at the air in front of him as if the attacker stood right before him.

Reagan had no idea what was going on. She just stared at him clawing and stomping around in shock before she realizing she should get away right now. She tried to stand up shakily and almost immediately fell back down. Everything lurched violently and she felt as if she was about to pass out yet again. But she forced herself to stay awake. She couldn’t black out here.

Since she couldn’t walk she began to crawl, dragging her body as fast as she could and looking around for whoever shot him. _‘Maybe they were friendly??’_

She saw something black and small fly through the air. It was about the size of a can and landed a little ways from the deathclaw. Suddenly it began to let out a series of loud sparks and pops, drawing the attention of the deathclaw as he roared, lashing out towards its direction.

“Hey!”

Reagan spun around to see a woman run out from behind a large rock. The same one she hid behind during the storm. She had pale, nearly white hair cut in a bob and was wearing what looked like jeans and a leather jacket over a pale sundress. But what first drew Reagan’s attention was the heavy looking slave collar around her neck. That and the black eyepatch she wore over her left eye.

She ran over, slinging a sniper gun across her back as she called out to her. “Can you walk? Are you bleedin’ anywhere?”

Her accent was odd, and it took Reagan a few moments to understood what she was saying. “N-no! I can’t I’m too wea-“

Before she could even finish what she was saying, the woman ran over and put an arm under her shoulders, scooping her up and half carries, half drags her away. “C’mon! We gotta get moving! I only got one’f his eyes but he can still see out of the other! Once he’s ou’a his fury he’ll realize that!”

Reagan nods and attempts to walk as best she could, travelling over the dry cracked ground of the wasteland in the arms of this stranger.

She didn’t realize she was crying until she realized she couldn’t see properly. “I-I…I-I’mm..” She begins, not even sure what she’s trying to say.

The mysterious woman shakes her head, adjusting her grip on her as they picked up speed. “Y’dont have to say anything. Just keep tryin’ to walk we’ll be outta here.”

Reagan continued anyway, her sobs and sniffles finally becoming a bit clearer. “Th-th-thank y-ou.” She finally manages to say.

She gives Reagan a brief look before saying “Don’t be thankin’ me until we get somewhere safe. Now _c’mon!”_

Reagan continued to sob softly before suddenly her adrenaline ran out. She stumbled, nearly tripped, and finally slumped against the woman supporting her.

Her sounds of surprise sounded far away as the darkness danced at the edges of her vision, swallowing everything up.

Then, everything was gone.

The first thing Reagan thought as she stirred awake was how warm she was. She had a blanket over her and the sounds of a fire crackled nearby. For several seconds, she thought she was at home. Sleeping in late after a scavenging run. She’d have to go down to Mrs Audrey’s and get something for breakfast later. Audrey would love to hear the stories she has to tell. She’d tell her about how she cleared those raiders out and how Lyle tried to give her a bad deal and the storm and…

Then everything came rushing back at once. She sat bolt upright in the bed, letting out a scream and looking around frantically for the first time.

She was in a old abandoned bedroom. Light streamed in from a hole in the ceiling where the smoke spiraled out. She looked down at the state of her clothes and was surprised to find herself in a pair of shorts and a white teeshirt. She was on a surprisingly soft bed and had apparently been using a bag as a makeshift pillow.

“Mornin’.”

She snapped her head over to see the woman who had saved her. She had a fire going in a trashcan she had apparently found. She had a bit of loose grating over it like a grill and had something sizzling in a pan atop that.

“It’s alright!” She said, noticing the panic that filled her. “It’s alright don’t worry… You’re safe now.” Reagan kept breathing hard until finally she felt her heart begin to slow. She’s right… She’s right if she wanted to do anything to her she would’ve done it while she was asleep.

_While she was asleep._

The thought of what had happened made her feel even worse. Everything felt so clear, so real as if it had just happened. She was only shaken from her thoughts by the sound of the woman clattering the pan onto the makeshift grill.

“Y’hungry? I didn’t find much in those bags but there was plenty of Cram.” She smiled, making a plate and handing it to Reagan before she even answered. “You slept nearly two days straight. Do you need something to drink?”

Reagan nodded. She didn’t realize until now but she was thirstier than she had been in years. “Yes please.” She said with a raspy voice.

The woman stood up, dusting her jeans off. “I left everythin’ downstairs. I’ll be right back.”

She watched the woman leave the room, unsure what to think. Then her stomach growled and her attention was pulled away to the food on her plate.

Cram wasn’t particularly good in her opinion, but now that she was starving it smelled like absolute heaven. She ate fast, scarfing down the food as fast as she could chew. By the time the collared woman returned, Reagan had finished the entire plate.

The woman looked somewhat surprised when she saw the already empty plate. But she made no comment, walking over to hand Reagan the bottle of water. “Here. I dunno how clean it is since I just took it from those bags the Brahmin had on it. But I figured you’d prob know better than me.” Reagan thanked her and unscrewed the cap drinking down the water as fast as she could.

While she was drinking down the water the woman grabbed the plate and walked back over to the fire, filling it back up with the processed meat. “So,” She began. “Y’don’t have to answer shit if you don’t wanna, but what were ya doing out here?”

She drank half the water and finished with a sigh before she answered. Already she felt leaps and bounds better than before. “It’s a long story…” She looked away, not sure how much she should tell her. Or even how much she _could_ tell her. “…Those two men who were killed were slavers. They were gonna take me back with them.” Is all she managed to say.

She nodded. “Yeah I thought as much… Pretty much the same happened to me when I was first caught.” She stood up to give Reagan her food. She took it with a small “Thanks.” And began eating again, a little slower this time.

After a few minutes of silence, Reagan finally spoke up. “What’s your name?” She asked between bites of her food. “I’m Reagan.”

The woman opened up a water bottle of her own. “Well… Everyone calls me Matriarch but you can call me Matty fer short.” She takes a swig of water before absentmindedly scratching the long pale scar that ran from her forhead to her jaw, right over the eye covered in an eyepatch. Reagan never noticed it before now.

“Matriarch…” She repeats, the name sounding familiar. Then Reagan jumps, looking back at her. “I know you!”

She froze, stopping in the middle of opening another can of Cram to look up at her with a puzzled expression. “How? Were ya-“

She shook her head. “No no, sorry, I mean I’ve heard about you. I know several ex-slaves and you had apparently been taken to where they were kept before.”

She nodded, returning to her food. “Yeah, that does make sense… Those rumors did make their way around a lot no matter where I was dragged.” She dumped the can onto another plate and began cutting the meat in slices for grilling.

With a little more strength back Reagan sat fully up, swinging her legs around to face Matty fully. “Hey, that collar is defused right?”

She snorted. “If it wasn’t I wouldn’t have my head right now. Why? Worried it’ll go off?”

“No… I can get it off of you if you’d like. I just need a couple of lock picks.”

She raised an eyebrow, thinking it over. “Of course I’d like. I’ve been tryin’ and haven’t gotten anywhere. I can disable these fuckers just fine but I can’t gettem off of me to save my life.” She moved the pan off the heat and walked over, digging in her jean pockets for a bit before pulling out a pair of lock picks.

She handed them to her and sat down. ” Here. How’re you gonna do this?”

“Turn around, it’s actually in the back.” Reagan said scooting forward in her seat a bit. “And hold your hair up too.”

She held her pale hair up and gave Reagan a view of her smooth neck. She never thought she would ever call a neck pretty but… That was a pretty neck.

She realized she had been staring a little too long and hurriedly went about unlocking it. They lapsed into a silence as she worked, the only sounds being the crackling fire and the clinks of metal against metal. She was just glad to have something to distract her from her own thoughts. It wasn’t long that she began to think about the rumors she heard.

“…Ya wonderin’ if the stories are true right?” Matty suddenly asks, breaking the still air between them.

Reagan was about to shake her head and deny it, but found herself admitting it instead. “To be honest… Yeah. But you don’t have to tell me.”

She went quiet for a few moments before saying “Nah it’s alright. Probably everythin’ you heard is true anyway. Yes even the one with the man and his’pets’.”

She scratches at her scar again for a few moments before continuing. “I bet you’re also wondering how you’re not bleedin’ out after all that huh?” She asks looking back at Reagan.

She hadn’t thought of that. Admittedly she had other things on her mind. “Yeah, why is that?”

“Did he lick you out beforehand?” She asks in return.

“…Yeah but what doe-“

“There’s somethin’ about their spit that helps with your elasticity and dullin’ the pain. It sometimes even makes it feel a lot better than usual. I dunno what it is or even why it happens but there you go.” She looks back at Reagan with a smile, suddenly deciding to change the topic. “Anyway, tell me about yourself!”

At first Reagan was a little lost for words. It’s been a long time since she’s met someone who gave a damn about her past who didn’t already know it. “Well, I used to be a travelling Merc. Going from town to town looking for jobs. It wasn’t until after I busted a slavers den and freed everyone inside that I found myself suddenly responsible for a large group of people. Eventually, after we traveled as a large group between different towns, we decided to just create our own settlement. It took a few years, but we have a good community. Even if we can’t decide on a name. But most people call it The Shelter.”

A crisp and metal _click_ filled the air and the collar came apart. Matty pulled it off and for the first time, Reagan saw the scars it left her on her shoulders and around the base of her neck. She must’ve been wearing these collars for years.

She stared at the collar in her hands for several moments, as if she couldn’t believe it was finally off. Then she broke out in a laugh, turning to face Reagan with tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “I.. I dunno what to say… Thank you! You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this fucking thing off.” As if to cement it she threw the collar across the room, it clanged and banged across the floor before skidding to a halt against the wall.

Reagan smiled back. “It was the least I could do for what you did for me-” She was cut off by a sudden spike of pain in her head. She held her head in one hand and groaned.

“Lay back down!” Matty said, standing up to hand Reagan her water bottle again. “Ya gotta get your energy back if yer gonna get back to your settlement right?” She grabbed the pan of Cram and threw it back on the fire.

Reagan nods and lays back down. She drank a bit more water as she watched her prepare more food. “…Do you have anywhere to go?”

“Hm?” Matty looked back at her, turning the slices of meat with a beatup fork.

“I mean, a home. Somewhere to stay.” Reagan clarifies.

Matty shook her head. “No. I didn’t escape that long ago y’know. I haven’t found anywhere else.”

“What do you think about coming back with me?” Reagan offers. Her eyes are beginning to droop. She really did need a ton of rest. “I think you’d like it.”

Matty looked surprised, her mouth falling open for several seconds before she finally said “I… Sure why not! That sounds great.”

Reagan smiles, feeling herself drift off already. “Good… I can’t… Wait to introduce you…”

She finally fell back asleep. And for the first time since she left home, she felt safe.

She couldn’t wait to show the Matriarch her home.

 


End file.
